Autobiography
by Stephanie18
Summary: Edina is in the middle of writing her autobiography when she discovers the house is haunted. Her publisher is on her back about receiving the manuscript on time, so Edina does what any reasonable person would: get an exorcism.
1. Part One

**Autobiography**

**Summary:** Edina is in the middle of writing her autobiography when she discovers the house is haunted. Her publisher is on her back about receiving the manuscript on time, so Edina does what any reasonable person would: get an exorcism.

**Disclaimer:** I obviously don't own Ab Fab. Jennifer Saunders is a goddess.

**A/N:** I've had the idea a long time and I've been watching A LOT of Ab Fab recently, so it only made sense. This is really just an experiment for me to see if I can get in the right mindset to write Ab Fab fanfic. If I can, I'll probably write more.

**Part One**  
Saffron sat at the kitchen table, hunched over a worn copy of _Pride and Prejudice_. Her mother was gone for the day, supposedly to the office, so the house was actually quiet enough for reading. She had managed to get through quite a lot of the book and had convinced herself that she would be able to finish, but her dreams were crushed when she heard a noise on the stairs: the jingling and jangling of the eight necklaces her mother was wearing.

"Saff!" Eddie shouted. "Come help momma! Come help! Help mummy with her computer, sweetie!"

Saffy ignored her.

"Fine! But now you aren't allowed to use it, not even touch it!" Eddie yelled. She pushed the box down the stairs and it stopped on the landing with a crash. "I'm sure it's fine. I paid enough for it, let me tell you. I paid so much I should be able to run it over with a bloody tank and still be able to Google."

Eddie picked up the box then walked over to the kitchen table and set it down. She stared at Saffy for a moment before plucking the book from her daughter's hands. "What is this? _Pride and Pre-juice_? You don't need books now, sweetie, we've got a state of the art system right here in this box. You don't need books when you have the Interweb, do you?"

Saffy grabbed her book back and hugged it close to her chest. "I don't want anything to do with your new computer, thank you very much."

"It's not just a computer," Eddie chastised. She opened the box. "It's a _system_, darling. A _system_. It does a lot more than a computer and it cost tons more, too, let me tell you. It does everything a computer does, sweetie… _and more_."

"Like what?" Saffy sighed.

Eddie blinked. She pulled a laptop from the box and set it on the table. "Well, just… more. It can… make toast or something, probably, I don't know. But it was very expensive. Don't look at me like that, sweetie! We need this! _I_ need it!"

"And why do you need it?" Saffy asked. "You've already got a computer that you still don't even know how to use properly!"

"This is a _system_!" Eddie cried. "A _system_! Get it right! And I do need it, I do. I'll have you know that your mum is an important woman with important things to say - a publisher wants my autobiography, sweetie. The world needs to know about my life."

"You don't even remember most of it."

"Those are the bits I'm making up," Eddie said. She pulled a cigarette from her purse and lit it. "And you'll want to be nice to me while I write, sweetie, or I'll make you look awful… well I suppose I could just include a picture of you and that would say it all, wouldn't it?"

Saffy rolled her eyes. "I've known you all my life and haven't heard you once ever say anything interesting, why on Earth would anyone want you to write an entire book about yourself? What will you title it? _Still Fat_?"

"I'm a celebrity PR," Eddie said, narrowing her eyes. "I know loads of important people and I _am_ an important person. People want to read about behind the scenes and I'm so far behind the scenes -"

"Wish you'd stay there," Saffy muttered.

"I'm so far behind the scenes," Eddie went on, ignoring her daughter's comment, "I know everything and everyone. OK!, Hello, all the mags, it's all old news to me, darling, because I was _there_, wasn't I? I'm on the cusp! I'm the cutting edge! Anyway, you wouldn't know a thing about it, sweetie, with that cocoon of dullness wrapped around you. The closest you get to the cutting edge is when you nick yourself with a razor. Whereas, I… I am the all-seeing eye, sweetie!"

"Oh, shut it," Saffy snapped. Finally fed up with her mother, she shook her head and left the kitchen.

Eddie shrugged and dumped the remaining contents of the box onto the table. She examined the different wires, plugs, and accessories closely for a moment. Before she could take any action, Patsy came down the stairs.

"What a terrible day!" Patsy exclaimed. She went and grabbed a bottle of champagne from the fridge.

"Where were you?" Eddie asked.

"Work."

"Oh, that is terrible," Eddie said and shuddered. She picked up a green wire and stared at it with wide eyes.

"Lovely necklace."

"It's not a necklace, it's a… wire… bendy pencil, maybe…" Eddie frowned.

Patsy gestured to the laptop and wires that were crowding the table surface. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm writing my autobiography, obviously," Eddie replied. "I bought this system, very expensive, to write it on."

Patsy looked at the laptop. "Tiny desk."

"Not a desk, it's a laptop," Eddie said. She slapped her thighs. "For my lap. So I can write. On my lap. My autobiography."

"I'm already bored of it and you haven't even written it yet," Patsy said. "Let's go out, sweetie. We can eat somewhere fabulous and then I've got these lovely little pills, no idea what they do, but it'll be fabulous."

"Darling, I can't. I'm on a schedule," Eddie said. "I've already put it off for too long, I must get this done. I can't go out."

"Not even for just one drink? One little drink?" Patsy pleaded. "We'll just go out for one tiny drink and then you can come back and write. One drink. One drink, Eds! It won't kill you!"

Eddie chewed on her bottom lip. "Well… I suppose one little drink won't hurt. Just one drink, but then I must come back and write my book."

"Yeah, yeah, sure, sweetie," Patsy said and nodded.

The Next Morning…

Eddie slumped into a chair at the kitchen table, put her hands over her face and groaned. She parted her fingers so she could examine Saffy's reaction. When she saw none, she groaned again, louder this time. Again she got no reaction from her daughter, so she groaned again even louder.

"You're not getting any sympathy from me," Saffy said as she flipped through the newspaper.

Eddie sighed and let her hands fall to her sides. "It's not my fault, you know, sweetie! I'm merely a pawn in Patsy's game of checkers, darling! Anyway, it was only one drink! I'm a grown woman, aren't I allowed one bloody drink!? It's not as if I went to a club and shoved pills and bottles of Bolli down my throat - no, that is not what happened at all. I only had one drink!"

"One drink?" Saffy said. "That's what you should title your book. I've heard that line enough times from you."

"My book?" Eddie said slowly. Her eyes widened. She looked at the surface of the table and saw that her laptop wasn't there.

Eddie got up and looked under the table then began rushing around the kitchen opening drawers and cupboards. "Darling! Call the police! Call the fuzz! My system is missing! It was here on the table when I left and now it's gone! We've been robbed!"

"It isn't missing," Saffy said. "I got tired of looking at it, so I put it together and put it upstairs."

"Oh, well, _thank you_, sweetie -"

"You're welc -"

"_Thank you_ for nearly giving your mother a heart attack, sweetie!" Eddie went on dramatically. "You want me dead so badly, don't you, darling? Well, I'm going to write that in my autobiography then I'm going to kill myself, is that what you want? You want to find me dead on my bathroom floor, is that it?"

"No," Saffy said. "I doubt they'd be able to get your fat, bloated corpse out through the doorway."

Eddie pointed at her daughter then stormed from the room. She went to the sitting room, where the laptop was set on the coffee table near the sofa. She sat down in front of the laptop and turned it on. After a few minutes of toying around, she managed to open a word processing program and began typing.

_I am gorgeous. _

_I have always been gorgeous and fabulous. _

_My name is Edina Monsoon. I was born in London and, luckily for me, my parents were hit by a bus leaving hospital and so I was raised by Judy Garland._

"I am an amazing writer," Eddie said and smiled.

She began to type more about her childhood (mostly lies), but stopped when she heard a noise. Loud clangs and clanks were coming from the walls. She looked around the room with wide eyes, then pulled her cell phone from her pocket and dialed a number.


	2. Part Two

**Part Two**  
Eddie and Patsy sat on the stairs in front of Eddie's front door, surrounded by bottles of Bolli and cigarette butts.

"I'm _bored_," Patsy exclaimed. "Why can't we just go in?"

"I've told you!" Eddie replied. "We're waiting for the exerciser… exercis… circumcis… we can't go in because there's a ghost, all right!?"

"I've never seen anything," Patsy said.

"I know what I heard," Eddie said. "There's a ghost in there, banging on the walls. I heard it! There is no other explanation, darling. It's a ghost. Just as well, too - I'll put it in the autobiography. Edina Monsoon, tormented by ghosts. I could get a movie deal out of that, I think."

A taxi pulled up in front of the house and an overweight, middle-aged woman draped in robes and scarves got out.

"Finally," Patsy sighed.

After the woman's taxi pulled away, another took its spot and from this taxi a young priest emerged.

Patsy turned to Eddie.

"Well, I had to be sure," Eddie explained. "New age mixed with old age, you know. I can't be living with a ghost! I can't bear the thought of it watching me dress!"

"Watching you undress is probably what killed it," Patsy said and laughed at her own joke.

Eddie narrowed her eyes and turned to the woman and priest. "About bloody time! I could've been killed by now!"

"The undead can't harm you, dear," the woman told her.

"Then it could have been moving my things all around and I've only just got the house the way I want it!" Eddie exclaimed.

She opened the front door and ushered the woman and priest into the house. She led them to the sitting room. "This is where I heard it dragging its chains about."

"You're being haunted by something from _A Christmas Carol_?" The priest asked and smiled.

"I am not amused," Eddie said. "I have very important work to be doing, you know. I'm very important! Go on, get to work, get the ghost out."

"Shall we pray?" The priest said.

Patsy rolled her eyes. "Eddie, do we have to be here for this nonsense?"

"No, no, you don't need us, do you?" Eddie asked. "We'll just get in the way. We'll be in the kitchen. It's downstairs, let me know when you've ghost-busted, all right? Come on, Pats."

The pair walked down to the kitchen where Saffy was preparing herself something to eat.

Upon seeing Saffy, Patsy grimaced. "I'd rather be upstairs with the ghost."

"What does she mean?" Saffy asked Eddie. "What ghost?"

"Sweetie, I don't want to frighten you, but the sitting room is haunted," Eddie said. "But don't worry, I've got people upstairs right now doing an exorcism."

"She's the only demon that needs exorcising from this house," Saffy said and nodded at Patsy.

Patsy sneered and poured herself a glass of champagne.

"And why aren't you writing your book?" Saffy asked Eddie. "I thought you were on a tight schedule."

"I am, sweetie, I am, but I can't work with a ghost in the sitting room, can I? But I'm writing it all up here," Eddie said and pointed to her head. "Chapters and chapters of my life, all unfolding up here with clever little lines. My mind is currently home to a best seller, darling."

"Well, at least something's finally up there," Saffy said. "How much is that exorcism costing? The house isn't haunted."

"It is!" Eddie said. "I know what I heard. Clanks and clangs and awful noises coming from the walls while I was trying to write. Bloody inconsiderate ghost we've got."

"Noises coming from the walls? In the sitting room?" Saffy sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "That was the heat turning on, you stupid woman!"

"The heat?" Eddie asked incredulously. "The heat? The heat turning on? Darling, that noise - that noise was… well, I don't think I'm paying them anyway, sweetie. But just a question, are we Catholic? What - What are we? Well, I mean what are you? I'm Buddhist and I've got a priest in the house, is that all right? Will I be a priest in the next life now or something? Darling, what are the rules?"

Saffy sighed again. "I'm going up there and getting those people out of the house."

After Saffy disappeared up the stairs, Patsy said, "Eds, don't worry about coming back as a priest - be worried that you'll come back as _her_."

"Just as well that there isn't any ghost," Eddie said. "I should finish my book. Get it all on paper, you know. It's due in to the publisher in a few days."

"Oh, you can't work on that today, can you?" Patsy said. "You've barely had anything to eat or drink all day, and you haven't even shopped for God's sakes. You need to go to Harvey Nichols, darling, at least for a little while. Maybe one drink, too?"

"I really should write…"

"Sweetie, one drink isn't going to kill you, and when we're done, you can start writing straight away…"

One Week Later…

Eddie and Patsy came through the front door, both weighed down by shopping bags that were filled to the brim. As they were walking past the sitting room, Patsy stopped.

"What is it?" Eddie asked.

"Heard something in there," Patsy said and jerked her head toward the sitting room door. "Is it a ghost?"

Eddie smiled. "Not a ghost, darling - a ghost_writer_. I've paid someone to write my autobiography."

"That's fabulous."

"I know," Eddie said. "He's even worked the ghost into it. The publisher is in love with it, and, darling… some pages have gotten out to studios and I've already been getting offers for it to be turned into a movie. Sweetie, imagine it: _When It Rains, Pour a Drink: The Edina Monsoon Story_."

"Starring Patsy Stone," Patsy said. "I am quite important in your life, you know. I'd get top billing, of course."

With that, Patsy left for the kitchen.

Eddie shook her head. "Can't even get the lead in the movie of _my life_ based on _my autobiography_. Bloody typical, isn't it?"

She sighed then went to the kitchen.

**The End.**

**A/N:** So that was my little experiment to see if I could get into the right place in my mind to write Ab Fab fanfic. I think I can; I'd probably be more willing to take an idea and flesh it out more now. I guess we'll see. What did you think?


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